


The Blacklist

by Delmareve



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, In which Leorio and Kurapika go on their very own adventure., Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delmareve/pseuds/Delmareve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Gon and Killua off playing Greed Island and Kurapika tending to his duties as Light Nostrade’s top bodyguard, Leorio figures he's got time on his hands...but nothing's ever that simple. </p><p>When Kurapika pops unexpectedly back into his life, the two of them soon find themselves embarking on a dangerous mission in a world of chilling secrets, and unspoken emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings x Reunions

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and comments are always appreciated!! （*´▽｀*）

The Continental Library had a dry, dusty, papery smell.

 

It was the smell of hundreds of thousands of books stacked one on top of the other on shelves that marched all the way up to the ceiling, and Leorio breathed deeply as he stepped through the double doors, a faint smile on his tanned face. He used to think these sorts of places were boring, but he loved libraries now. The soft rustling of paper, the steady hum of lowered voices, the occasional _thump!_ as books were dropped and picked up and put back on shelves ― everything about libraries was peaceful, _soothing_ , and Leorio could feel muscles he hadn’t even known were taut with stress gradually relaxing as he approached the front desk. Libraries had been specifically designed so people could acquire knowledge and get work done, and he was in desperate need of both.

“Welcome to the Continental Library,” the girl at the front desk greeted, her voice cheerful as a bird call. “How can I help you, sir?”

She was young and pretty, with big green eyes, and Leorio found himself leaning up against the desk, grinning rakishly.

“Yo,” Leorio said, waggling his brows. “This is an awfully impressive library you got here. Can you tell me a little more about it?”

“Of course!” The girl chirped, seemingly unaware (or perhaps simply refusing to acknowledge) his flirtatious tone. “You’re in the world-famous Continental Library, in the city of Anhsa. In addition to housing well over 300,000 unique books ranging from mathematics to philosophy ― and of course fiction and nonfiction ― we have the largest collection of rare and blacklisted volumes in the world, many of which were donated to the library by the Prince of Anhsa.”

The girl paused, took a deep breath, and then added brightly: “We are, quite simply, one of the most comprehensive libraries in the world!”

“Hm,” Leorio replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He hadn’t found much time to shave, and his cheeks were stubblier than usual. “That’s quite an accomplishment. Do you get very many visitors to the library? Hunters?”

“Oh yes,” the girl said, clapping her hands enthusiastically. "The library receives thousands of visitors each day, including Hunters searching for information from rare texts. Our policy is much the same as any other library: you may check out any book, but some of our more valuable tomes come with steeper prices.”

“Uh...really?” Leorio murmured, visibly blanching. “Er, just how much are we talkin' here?”

“Well,” the clerk said, thoughtfully pressing a finger to her cheek, “a paperback in regular circulation would only cost about 5 jenny to rent. A copy of Master Yilfencroft’s _Compendium of the Mysteries of Nen_ would cost upwards of 2 billion jenny to check out.”

 _Sheesh_. “Wow, that’s. Huh. That’s really somethin’,” Leorio said, rubbing the back of his head with a self-conscious smile. “So, uh, what if I wanted to read something while I was here? Y’know, without checking it out? That wouldn’t cost anythin', would it?”

“You’re free to read any book in the library during regular business hours at no charge,” the girl replied, with a little sniff at his perceived cheapness. “Please be aware that someone else may already be using the book you’re looking for, so you may have to wait for it. Some of our rarest and most valuable tomes have three-year wait lists." 

“That’s fine,” Leorio said, grinning broadly. “And, uh, those fancy-lookin’ terminals in the corners there...”

“You can use those to search for a book by date, genre, author or title. They can also tell you if a specific volume has been checked out already, and for how long. We have computer stations on the third, fifth, and seventh floors. If you need to use the bathroom, simply follow the signs. There’s a gift shop and a _café_ on the tenth floor,” the girl smiled again, sounded painfully rehearsed. “I totally recommend the sweet butter-cream macchiato!”

“Thanks for the info,” Leorio said, before he leaned forward, running his tongue over his lips. “So, _darlin’_ , whaddya say we grab some dinner after your shift is over?”

The girl blushed deeply, opening and closing her mouth in stunned outrage. “H-have a nice day, sir!” She managed to choke out, before whipping away from him with businesslike sharpness. “Next!"

Leorio sighed, slipping away from the front desk. Oh well, it was worth it a shot.

 _Kurapika would have been so annoyed,_ Leorio thought, shaking his head in amusement as he headed for the nearest terminal. It often seemed like annoyance was Pika’s default emotion, the one he fell back on time and time again like a wind-up toy reverting to its original position. But the Kurta had a tendency to become especiallyirritated whenever he caught Leorio flirting with various women, quickly letting loose with snide comments and exasperated sighs. Leorio did it just to watch his reaction, sometimes ― trying not to smile at the way Kurapika would cross his slim arms, huffing and puffing like a blowfish.

“Leorio, _surely_ you have more pressing matters to attend to,” he would say, his lightly-accented voice terse, and Leorio would simply grin and…

_Kurapika…_

Leorio felt his chest tightening with something that felt suspiciously like pain, but he quickly brushed it aside, whipping his hunter license out of his wallet to swipe it through the terminal’s card-reader. The screen dimmed for a second, before he received a pop-up welcoming him to the Continental Library, along with a message informing him that his status as a pro-hunter qualified him to access the library’s most precious materials.

“Provided I have the money to pay for it,” Leorio muttered, using the terminal’s touch-screen to browse through the library’s online menus. He could always put any books he wanted to check out on the built-in credit line that came with his hunter license, he supposed, but the money _would_ eventually have to be paid back to the association, and Leorio was in no position as yet to start making a living as a hunter. He was a novice still, just barely learning the basics of Nen. At this point, any pro-hunter worth their salt would eat him for _breakfast._ Leorio still had so much to learn, which is why he’d decided to come here after leaving Yorknew City.

_September 1st, Yorknew._

Against his better judgement, Leorio found himself reflecting on the events of the past few weeks. Six months hadn’t seemed like such a very long time, but Kurapika had changed quite a bit since the Hunter Exam...and Leorio wasn’t sure if that change was for the better. He still carried himself with a quiet, self-assured confidence ― head back and shoulders straight ― but his soulful brown eyes had been guarded somehow, and even when he laughed at Gon and Killua’s antics, Leorio could sense a deep weariness behind it.

“Leorio, you haven’t changed a bit,” Kurapika observed when they finally caught up, giving him an up and down appraisal with his lips quirked in a vague smile. And it was true, of course, but somehow Leorio had been slightly ashamed by the assessment. In that moment, Kurapika had seemed older than all of them, flush with cold determination.

It wasn’t until later that he learned the true depths of Kurapika’s hatred, and though he never mentioned it, seeing that side of the Kurta had saddened and horrified him all at once. Leorio couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like to carry all that pain, all that loathing, all that unadulterated rage. The same guilt that had given Kurapika his strength was also eating him up inside, slowly but surely. Leorio couldn’t count how many times he’d wanted to pull Kurapika into his arms, so he could hug him, tell him it was okay, _everything_ was going to be okay.

But he didn’t.

“Because I’m an idiot,” Leorio muttered viciously, clicking on the medical category. The selection of books was truly impressive; it made the public library in Yorknew seem like a sad joke in comparison. Leorio bit his lip, considering, and then slowly scrolled through the library’s menus until he found the section on languages.

Mere hours after orchestrating the exchange with Pakunoda for Gon and Killua’s lives, Kurapika collapsed.

Leorio wasn’t there to witness it, but he rushed over as soon as he could, Melody’s soft, panicked voice echoing in his ears: _Leorio! Kurapika fell and he won’t open his eyes! I’ve tried everything…_

Leorio had never seen such a horrible fever. Kurapika’s skin had almost been too hot to touch ― like holding his hands over an open flame ― and he’d looked so small lying on that sagging army cot, small and _vulnerable_ , alternately sweating and shivering, dark circles like smudged mascara under both eyes.

Leorio had begged Melody to let him take Kurapika to a hospital, but in the end she’d convinced him that it was simply too risky. The Troupe would be out for _blood_ after what Kurapika had done, and if they found him, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel ― a very _sick_ fish.

 _But not before they slaughtered all the rest of us, out of spite,_ Leorio thought, frowning darkly.

It was probably just as well. A hospital wouldn’t have done Kurapika much good, anyway. It hadn’t taken Leorio long to figure out that his fever was unnatural in origin, and there was nothing any of them could do but wait and hope.

For two days and nights, Leorio stayed by the Kurta’s side, hardly sleeping, getting up only to change the water he’d been using to keep the towel on Kurapika’s head cool. The crumbling safe-house Zepile had found for them in the slums of Yorknew City had an old, moldy sort of smell, and the silence had been broken only by the sounds of Gon and Killua’s hushed voices in the next room, and Kurapika’s own delirious ramblings.

 _Who knew he talked in his sleep?_ Leorio mused, smiling fondly. He hadn’t been able to understand a word of what Kurapika was saying ― it was all in Kurtish. He’d heard Pika speaking in his native tongue before ― almost always when Kurapika thought no one was paying attention ― mumbling to himself as he cleaned his swords or swearing under his breath whenever a situation caught him off-guard.

 _Kurtish sounds beautiful_. And so it did, and Leorio had listened to Kurapika ramble with all the intentness of a person listening to a particularly lovely piece of music ― holding the Kurta’s small, calloused hand through the worst of his chills, desperately wishing he could understand what Pika was saying.

 _If only Melody hadn’t made such a big deal outta things,_ Leorio thought maliciously, completely unaware of the line forming behind him as he fiddled with the terminal, clicking sections at random in his distraction.

To be fair, she’d probably only been trying to help, but _sheesh!_ The musical hunter approached him on the second night, smiling warmly around her bucked teeth. Then, without warning: “You should tell Kurapika how you feel,” she said, startling him into a deep blush.

“Wha - _what?_ ” Leorio stammered, struggling to regain his composure, dropping Kurapika’s hand in the process. “I’m not ― exactly what are you _gettin’_ at, huh?! Kurapika and I are just _friends_! He’s hard-headed and stubborn as a mule, so I feel obligated to look after ‘im, but ―”

“Oh Leorio,” Melody sighed, shaking her head. “You can’t fool me. You’re completely in love with him, aren’t you?”

Leorio had frozen, stunned speechless, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish that had been scooped out of water.

“I can tell by the way you look at him,” Melody continued gently, “like he’s the most precious thing in the world. I can tell by the way your eyes light up whenever you’re around him. But mostly, I can tell by your heartbeat ― ” she raised her own tiny hands and pressed them to her chest, “ ― soothing yet fierce, and warm, _so warm_. The heartbeat of someone who would lay down their own life to protect the one they loved.”

“That’s…” Leorio began weakly, blushing so hard it felt like his face was melting. “H-heh, t-that’s ridiculous…”

“Is it?” Melody chuckled, her beady eyes sparkling, “Regardless, I think you should give it some thought, Leorio. Love is one of the most powerful forces in this world. It can right great wrongs and heal even the deepest of pains. And Kurapika...” she paused for a moment, becoming sad, “...Kurapika needs someone to love him. He needs that more than anything else, I think.”

 _Stupid,_ he thought later, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. _No way am I in love with Kurapika. He’s a jerk anyways, leaving without saying goodbye to Gon and Killua!_

“Hey buddy, would you make up your mind over there?”

“Eh?”

Leorio looked behind him, saw a small group of people that had queued up waiting to use the terminal, and flushed in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he muttered, quickly selecting the languages category, before shuffling off as quickly as he could.

“Sixth floor,” Leorio mumbled to himself. He gave the stairs a weary glance, before deciding to take the elevator instead. Shit, he still had _nightmares_ about climbing all those damn stairs during the Hunter Exam’s first phase sometimes. With Gon and Killua off chasing Greed Island and Kurapika patrolling the halls of Light Nostrade’s mansion, Leorio had no pressing concerns. He missed his friends, but it was time to get down to business ― if he wanted to achieve his dream of becoming a doctor someday, he needed to learn as much about the human body as he could.

 _Med schools are expensive, and many of them have entrance exams...I’ll never pass if I slack off._ At some point, he also needed to get back to his Nen training, perhaps find a master. What little he knew, he’d found out from reading. It wasn’t the best, but hey, how many people could pick up the basics just by opening a book? Leorio thought that deserved _some_ credit, at least.

But first…

“Let’s see here...Kurtish...” Leorio ran his long, tapered fingers lightly across the spines of books as he searched, his small, round sunglasses pushed up on his head. It might be worthwhile to pick up a few phrases in Kurapika’s language, he figured. Surprising him with the wealth of his knowledge would be fun...assuming he ever saw the angry bastard again.

_Hehehe, I can just imagine the look on his face! I’ll totally rub it in, too!_

 

By the time he finished scouring the languages section however, Leorio had only found five books.

 _This is it?_ Leorio thought, carrying them over to a small table in a quiet corner. _Oh well, I guess it’s only to be expected…_

Leorio sighed, cracked his knuckles, picked up the first volume (aptly titled _The Kurta of Lukso Province_ ) and began to thumb through it. He soon lost all track of time ― as usual whenever he was studying ― the pile of books around slowly growing higher and higher as he worked, his blue suit jacket draped across the chair behind him. By the time he looked up from his twentieth book on anatomy and physiology, wincing at the pain in his neck, the shadows in the library had grown long. It wouldn’t be long before closing time, and he needed to find some sort of accommodations before then.

_Maybe the receptionist will have changed her mind about dinner…_

“...Leorio?”

Leorio whipped his head around, recognizing that voice. But...no, it _couldn’t_ be.

It _was_.

“... _Kurapika?_ ” Leorio said, gawking at the slim, blond-haired man that had crept up on him from out of nowhere. It was difficult to fathom, and yet _there he was_ , standing there in his white training suit and blue-and-gold tabard, bokken swords clipped securely to his side, looking much healthier than he had when Leorio had last seen him. Kurapika was standing several feet away, watching him almost warily, like a wild animal watching a hunter, suspicious of the food he was being offered. Leorio could feel his heart racing in his chest, and if his mouth had fallen open any faster he suspected his chin would be dragging the floor.

“You ― you ―” he choked.

“Yes,” Kurapika replied, his lips quirking in a wry smile. “It’s me.”

“B-but, aren’t you supposed to be ―”

“Also, yes,” Kurapika sighed, running a hand back through his silky honey-blond hair. “However, something’s...come up. I figured it would be much _safer_ if I simply tracked you down and spoke in person.”

Leorio found himself trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Kurapika…”

“Yes,” Kurapika said again, his expression softening. “I’m here, Leorio. And I _really_ need to talk to you, if that’s all right.”

Leorio’s chin wobbled for a second, before he squared his shoulders, taking a very deep breath.

“Nice to see you again. You’re payin’ for dinner, asshole.”

 

_________________________________

 

Kurapika led the way down to Anhsa's bustling wharf with the thick material of his Kurta garb swishing about his legs.

 

His fine blond hair had grown even longer since the last time Leorio had saw him, framing his face in messy layers that looked as if they hadn't been properly brushed in weeks. Leorio could literally spend _hours_ in front of a mirror, primping this and straightening that (hey, a man's gotta look good, right?), but Kurapika had never been one to care about something as trivial as his appearance. Leorio tried not to stare as they walked, but seriously, what was he _thinking?_ Just when Leorio thought he was starting to understand him, Kurapika would go and do something completely unexpected, as if to prove no one really knew him at all.

_Speaking of which…_

"So, what's this about?" Leorio asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Kurapika glanced up at him, the lamplights reflecting in the depths of his cool brown eyes, before looking over his shoulder. Anhsa had been built with tourism in mind, and the streets were just as packed at night as they were during the day. People spilled in and out of taverns festooned with neon signs, drunk and giggling, while shops, selling everything from imported silks to cheap trinkets, competed with each other for customers. Up ahead was the wharf, and a little ways beyond that was the sea. The setting sun lit the sky in brilliant shades of pink and gold, which reflected softly off the shifting waves.

"I think," Kurapika said after a moment, "it would be better if we discussed this somewhere private."

" _Eh?_ " Leorio looked around, his eyes narrowing suspiciously behind his dark shades. "A-are you..." a nervous pause, then he bent down and cupped his mouth, whispering urgently, "...are you being followed?"

Kurapika arched a brow, eyeing him sidelong. "...What? No. I would have sensed it by now if I were."

"Is this about the Phantom Troupe?" Leorio whispered again, his heart beginning to pound. Suddenly, he didn't feel quite so safe anymore, and began turning his head this way and that, looking a bit like a paranoid owl. This had to be about the Phantom Troupe. It _had_ to be! Why else would Kurapika be here?

 _It's not like he really needs me for anything_ , Leorio thought, with a surprisingly intense feeling of sadness.

"Why are you whispering?" Kurapika asked, sounding amused and exasperated all at once.

"That woman on the corner there is staring like she's got somethin' to say!" Leorio growled, ignoring the question. "Could be a spy…"

"There's a baby in her arms."

"The baby could be a spy, too!" he argued, beyond caring how silly he sounded.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kurapika said, chuckling softly. "I'm not being followed, and the Troupe has nothing to do with this. You can relax."

" _Relax_ ," Leorio muttered irritably, giving the woman holding her baby the stink-eye as they passed. "How the heck am I supposed to relax?"

"...Is something troubling you, Leorio?" Kurapika asked, punctuating the question with a weary sigh.  

"As a matter of fact, there is," Leorio grumbled, glaring at the blond over the top of his small round shades. "The last time I saw you, you had _thirteen_ different serial killers out for your head —"

" _Twelve_ ," Kurapika corrected coolly, his eyes flashing, "minus one filthy spider I squished."

" — and somehow, you were working for the mafia!" he continued, disregarding his friend's darkening expression. "That kind of crap has a way of comin' back to bite you in the ass, Kurapika!"

"I know what I'm doing," Kurapika replied, suddenly going frosty as a glacier. "I don't need a lecture from _you_."

"Oh yeah, how could I forget? _You_ know everything about everything!" Leorio shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm, his temper rising in response to Kurapika's tone. "I'm just the guy everyone thinks is an idiot anyway, so I'm probably just over-reacting, right?"

Kurapika pursed his lips, color riding high on his cheekbones. His silence spoke volumes.

Leorio snorted. "Right. And I'm sure this whole thing is on the up n' up, huh? Perfectly legitimate. Lemme guess — you tracked me down because you wanted to get my opinion on the next mafia sponsored _bake sale_."

Kurapika whirled on him, sudden as a viper striking, startling Leorio so badly he actually took a half-step back. The Kurta's expression was calm — almost _too_ calm, like he was purposely trying to keep it so — but the thin amber ring that normally surrounded his light brown eyes had taken on a decidedly red tinge.

"I'm not asking you to agree with my decisions," Kurapika replied, his voice flat, "in fact, I don't really care if you do. But don't you dare make light of this, Leorio."

Leorio scowled, refusing to be intimidated. "Tch, whatever! Can you blame me for being on edge after everything that's happened? I'm just stating _facts!"_

"Then I'm sorry you think I'm such a nuisance!" Kurapika snapped, abruptly losing his cool. "I would hate to burden you with my presence any longer than necessary, so I'll try to make this quick!"

_Kurapika…_

Leorio inhaled the brisk, salty air coming off the sea, filling his lungs to their maximum capacity, before slowly exhaling. His shoulders slumped in the process.

Reunited for all of twenty minutes and already on the verge of an argument. That _had_ to be some kind of record for them, Leorio mused ruefully. Kurapika was everything he wasn't — refined when he was vulgar, level-headed when he was brash, calm when he was loud. He and Kurapika were two very different people who'd managed to overcome their differences to become friends, but they still butted heads every once in a while, passionately refusing to back down from their own unique point of view.

Leorio raised his hand, hesitated for a split-second, then _thwaped!_ Kurapika solidly across the back. He had the satisfaction of watching Kurapika stumble, before he whirled around, sputtering with outrage _._

_"W-what are you —?!"_

Heh. Leorio grinned, lowering his shades so he could drop the blond a sly wink.

"You _are_ a nuisance," he replied, "but you're also my friend, and...uh. A-and, um—"

Leorio glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck with a heavy blush creeping across his face. Bah, why was it so difficult to talk about his feelings? Killua was right — this mushy stuff was stupid, stupid and _embarrassing_. Leorio would never understand how Gon could blurt these things out so confidently.

"Kurapika, I wouldn't trade our time together for the world, got it?" he snapped, glancing nervously off to one side. "It's just...I missed you, and I'm worried about you, okay? So _deal_ with it!"

His words echoed up and down the wharf, startling a flock of seagulls into flight. The birds circled overhead for a moment or two, cawing raucously, before taking off in search of quieter perches. A small group of fishermen, tending to their nets after a long day on the water, peered curiously in their direction...and immediately went back to what they were doing. It was almost as if the men could sense some sort of trouble brewing between the strangely dressed blond and his long-legged brunette companion, and wanted absolutely no part of it.

 _Great, me and my big mouth,_ Leorio thought, so embarrassed he could have crawled into the nearest ditch without a murmur of complaint.

Awkwardness had settled between them like a thick, scratchy blanket in the ensuing silence, and Leorio could _feel_ Kurapika's big brown eyes drilling into the side of his skull, as if he was waiting for Leorio to explain himself — or perhaps only to apologize. But there was no way in hell he was looking Kurapika in the eye after something like that. Besides, he had nothing to apologize for! He was simply being honest!

"I hope you're not waiting for me to beg forgiveness," Leorio began gruffly, crossing his arms. "Because I —"

_Thwap!_

_"Owww!"_ Leorio cried, cradling his throbbing head. He whirled on Kurapika, grinding his teeth in annoyance, and saw him calmly clipping his bokken swords back into place with a decidedly smug expression.

 _"What was that for?"_ Leorio snarled, a vein twitching above his left eye. "You _jerk_ , I should —!"

"Leorio-san."

Leorio sputtered, startled by the honorific, his eyes going wide and round as saucers. Kurapika simply smiled at him, calm as ever — and it was quite possibly the most _beautiful_ smile he'd ever seen. It lit up Kurapika's face, momentarily breaking through the aura of weary resignation he'd been wearing like a cloak ever since Yorknew City; for once, Kurapika actually looked his age, like how he must have looked before the Phantom Troupe, before his home become a graveyard, before he began carrying around all that rage and anguish. Leorio opened and closed his mouth, futilely trying to push out a sound. All the annoyance he felt quickly gave way to awe, and just like that, his heart was pounding, his mouth was dry and he was blushing all over again...all because Kurapika _smiled_ at him.

 _Damn it,_ Leorio thought, adjusting his shades with shaking hands. _What the hell is_ wrong _with me?_

"That," Kurapika said, turning toward several businesses clustered at the end of the quay, their lights shimmering off the water, "was payback for earlier. I don't think you're an idiot, Leorio. If I did, I wouldn't be here. And for the record...I missed you too."

"Hmph. _Sure_ you did," Leorio muttered, struggling to get his emotions under control (and failing miserably). "D-don't call me _Leorio-san,_ alright?! It's weird!"

Kurapika smiled again, but this smile was brief, and Leorio could detect a hint of sadness in it. "Leorio, I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me."

"Really?" Leorio asked, dubious. He begged to differ, but once Kurapika set himself upon a course of action, no amount of arguing could convince him to change his mind. Leorio had learned _that_ one the hard way during the third phase of their Hunter Exam, when he outright refused to kill Majitani – even if it meant they'd all get disqualified. It had taken every last bit of his dwindling willpower not to pick Kurapika up and _shake_ him, so angry Leorio thought he was going to pop a blood vessel.

"I can take care of myself, you know." Kurapika reminded him, sounding a little irritated.

"Fine, fine," Leorio replied, throwing his hands up in defeat. "I know that already, sheesh. But if _I_ don't worry about you, who will? Aren't we supposed to be, y'know, _friends_?"

"Well, yes, but —"

"No buts!" Leorio snapped. "Look Kurapika, I just want ya to know that you don't have to bear all this alone, okay? I'm — I mean, _we_ are here for you. And, well..." he adjusted his jacket, picking off imaginary pieces of lint, "...it's only natural to be concerned about your pals. I'm not trying to insult you, or anythin' like that."

Leorio straightened up, deciding it was high time he changed the subject. "Now, are we getting somethin' to eat or not?! I'm starvin' over here."

"I —" Kurapika's expression shifted from calm to mildly confused, before he cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes. Let's eat. Why don't we just go over there? The Happy Squid."

" _There_?" Leorio squeaked. He paused, blinking up at the restaurant Kurapika had pointed out, his jaw flapping in the breeze.

The Happy Squid looked... _fancy_. _Too_ fancy. The brick and timber building was surrounded by colonnades and festooned with climbing vines thick with early spring flowers, and Leorio could see what looked like a private balcony hanging over the edge of the wharf, offering up a picturesque view of the surrounding sea. A sign hung above the door, slightly weathered by the salt air, depicting a smiling squid wearing a chef's hat, gleaming cutlery gripped in all its tentacles. Posted before the grand double-doors was the maître d'hôtel, a stiff-backed man with a curly mustache and a permanently snide expression, dressed in a suit so expensive it made them look like bums in comparison. Leorio gulped.

"Eh, m-maybe we should go somewhere else," he suggested, laughing self-consciously.

"Nonsense," Kurapika announced, already marching in that direction. "This place seems as good as any. You can't really go wrong with a seafood restaurant in a port town."

"B-but, uh…"

"What?" Kurapika asked, planting his hands on his hips. "Don't tell me you're allergic to seafood. I could have sworn you'd eat anything, Leorio."

"No, it's not that," Leorio said, frantically waving his arms. "It's just, uh. This place looks _really_ expensive, y'know?"

"So?" Kurapika replied, tapping his foot impatiently.

"I-it's too much money!" Leorio stammered. "When I said you were paying for dinner, I thought we'd be getting ramen bowls! Or maybe one of those fried Great Stamp buns with the spicy eel sauce…"

"Really?" Kurapika rolled his eyes, pushing past him. "If you're worried about the cost, don't be. I have more than enough money to pay for dinner. It's the least I can do for intruding upon your time here. Besides, aren't _you_ the one always going on about _expensive meals_ this and _big cars_ that? This ought to be right up your alley."

"Y-yeah, but…"

Kurapika didn't even bother waiting for him to finish, and Leorio slumped, realizing it was futile. He followed the Kurta reluctantly up to the front door, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and tried not to wince when the maître d'hôtel turned to glare at them, his upper lip curling in distaste.

 _Great_.

"May I help you...gentlemen?" the man asked, looking them up and down with a critical gleam in his beady black eyes.

"Yes," Kurapika said, completely unperturbed by the host's coldness. "I'd like a table for two, please. On the private balcony, preferably."

The man sniffed, clearly unimpressed, but Kurapika simply stared him down — as if he was silently daring the fool to turn them away. The host paled in the face of Kurapika's unwavering gaze, and after checking the guest list, snatched two menus off a nearby table and indicated that they should follow him.

"...Right this way, _sirs_." the man ground out, pushing his way through the double doors.

Holy crap. Leorio grinned, sidling up to Kurapika as they stepped into the restaurant's dim, candle-lit interior. "That. Was. _Awesome_ ," he congratulated.

"What was?" Kurapika asked, distractedly tucking a lock of his blond hair behind his ear.

The long dining hall hummed with the sounds of clinking plates and hushed conversations. There was a young man skillfully hammering out his rendition of a famous classical piece on a grand piano — _Melody would like this,_ Leorio thought idly — and chandeliers sparkled above their heads, adding to the ambiance of wealth and class. Several patrons turned to stare at them as they walked through, and it was easy to see why: in his brightly colored traditional clothes, Kurapika stuck out like a sore thumb, while Leorio was so tall he tended to draw attention no matter _what_ he did. He couldn't help feeling a little relieved when they finally reached the balcony, away from all the prying eyes and the clangor of the kitchens.

"Your waiter will be with you shortly," the maître d' informed them, sniffing haughtily, before he whirled on his heel and left, no doubt glad to be rid of them.

"...The service leaves something to be desired," Kurapika muttered, rolling his eyes.

Leorio paid no mind to either of them. He was too busy looking around, a huge grin plastered across his tanned face. "Damn, now _this_ is what I'm talkin' about!" he said, nodding with satisfaction.

Their table was just big enough for two people, and it had been arranged with the most immaculate place setting Leorio had ever seen, complete with napkins folded into swan shapes, so pretentious it was fanciful. The balcony was a lot smaller than it had looked from the outside, adding an unexpected aura of coziness; beyond it, the sun was a big orange ball of fire slowly sinking into the waves, and the weather was perfect for outdoor dining, cool enough to be comfortable. Leorio whistled, low and appreciative. It was beautiful. It was classy. It was…

 _...romantic,_ he thought, balking a little. Kurapika had requested the balcony specifically so they wouldn't have to worry about anyone eavesdropping on their conversation, but he'd inadvertently chosen what was probably the most romantic spot on the wharf. It was almost as if they were on a date.

Somehow, the idea was far more appealing than it should have been.

Leorio could feel his face heating up, and it didn't exactly help matters when Kurapika brushed past him and sank into the nearest chair, effortlessly graceful.

"Aren't you going to sit down, Leorio?" he asked, smiling a little.

"Uhh, y-yeah! 'Course..." Leorio replied, silently scolding himself for being ridiculous. He plopped down hard, accidentally bumping the table with his knees. The wine glasses rattled precariously, and Kurapika had to move quickly to keep one from rolling off and shattering on the floor. Leorio rubbed the back of his head, smiling self-consciously.

" 'm sorry," he mumbled, hoping Kurapika wouldn't think he was a total putz.

Kurapika sighed, shaking his head. "It's fine, Leorio. Just...try not to drop anything, okay? I'm sure the wait staff will be looking for any reason to overcharge us."

"O-oy, you don't have to tell me that!" Leorio muttered, reaching for his menu. He scanned the first page quizzically, marveling at the sheer variety of entrées (and the prices, ouch), before turning the menu over to peruse the beverage section. There was nothing better than an ice-cold beer, but Leorio wasn't entirely sure ordering one would be appropriate. He could almost imagine Kurapika's disapproving glare, along with a long-winded, preachy sermon about the evils of alcohol.

Leorio glanced at his friend over the top of his menu, his eyes narrowing slightly. Kurapika was fiddling absentmindedly with his silverware, seemingly lost in thought. Leorio cleared his throat with a discreet _ahem,_ but when that failed to get Kurapika's attention, he set his menu down and arched a brow.

"Arent'cha gonna order anythin'?" he asked, pointing at Kurapika's own untouched menu. "Or were you planning on sitting there lookin' pensive the whole night?"

"I'm not pensive," Kurapika replied, bristling defensively. He snatched up the menu to prove his point, and favored it with the quickest, most disinterested of glances. Leorio had to wonder if he was even remotely hungry.

"Sure. So, how did you find me?" Leorio asked, wisely choosing not to press the issue. It wasn't the most relevant question, admittedly, but it was the one that had been bothering him the most.

"It wasn't particularly difficult," Kurapika said, with a small shrug. "I pulled up the airship registry and ran a search for your name. Although I must admit, this is the last place I ever would have expected to find you."

Leorio shrugged. "I'm only here for the library. I needed to brush up on the cardiovascular system. Med school entrance exams are a real killer, y'know?"

"You really _are_ serious about becoming a doctor," Kurapika murmured, smiling faintly in approval.

"Of course!" Leorio replied, his chest swelling with pride, "It's my dream! 'Sides, huehe, women _love_ rich doctors…"

"...naturally." Kurapika replied, rolling his eyes.

"So, uh, what're you havin'?" Leorio asked, leaning across the table. Maybe Kurapika wouldn't mind if he ordered a beer.

"The salmon seems acceptable," Kurapika said, carelessly folding up his menu.

"Salmon, eh?" Leorio idly rubbed his chin, feeling the rough whiskers under his fingertips. "I think I'll get a steak."

"Figures," Kurapika replied, his tone wry. "I've never met someone so blatantly carnivorous."

"Maybe I'll order a beer, too," Leorio added slyly. Kurapika simply shrugged.

"Order whatever you want, Leorio. It's none of my concern."

Score! Leorio grinned enthusiastically, adjusting his tie. "Hey, you should get one too!" _Who knows, it might help him loosen up a little._

"The only way I could get away with ordering a _beer_ is if they don't check for ID," Kurapika replied dryly, "and I highly doubt management would allow such slips in an establishment of this caliber."

"Ah, that's right. You aren't eighteen yet," Leorio said, drumming his fingers across the table in a staccato beat. "Heh, sucks to be you. Drinking's awesome!"

"If you say so," Kurapika replied, his tone suggesting he thought Leorio was full of crap.

"Hey, we should do that!" Leorio exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Go out for drinks, I mean. When you turn eighteen. Hey, Kurapika, when's your birthday?"

"I —" Kurapika flushed, looking partly surprised and partly annoyed. "Exactly what does this have to do with anything? When is _your_ birthday?"

"March 3rd," Leorio answered easily, grinning from ear to ear. "And don't you forget it! We could go out for drinks on my birthday, too!"

Kurapika leaned back in his seat, looking as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "There will be _no_ drinks, Leorio."

"Eh? Why not?" Leorio asked, drooping in disappointment.

"Because I prefer not to celebrate my birthday," Kurapika snapped, looking off toward the sea.

" _Whaaa_?" Leorio cried, aghast. "B-but, it's your birthday! And not just any birthday, your _eighteenth_ birthday!"

"I fail to see the distinction."

"You'll finally be legal!" Leorio continued passionately. "You can drink and gamble as much as you want, man! It's a _special_ occasion! I promised Gon I would take _him_ out for his eighteenth birthday." Leorio smacked a fist into his waiting palm, grinning confidently. "We're going to a strip club!"

Kurapika whipped around so fast he almost took out the entire table; as it was, the wine glasses rattled for the second time tonight, and Leorio wasn't quick enough to catch them. A tall goblet dive-bombed off the edge, as if it no longer wanted to live in this world, and hit the floor with a piercing shatter.

"Uhhhhhh." Leorio said, recoiling away from Kurapika's expression, which was somewhere between livid and six different kinds of incredulous. And that's when the waiter finally decided to show.

"...Good evening," the young man said, glancing between them warily. "My name is Cly, and I'll be assisting you. Can I get you folks —"

"We're _not_ ready!" Kurapika snarled, sending the poor boy scrambling without another word. _Great,_ Leorio thought, watching him flee, _it'll be another twenty minutes before someone comes to take our order._

"Please tell me that was a joke, and you did _not_ actually promise to take Gon to a _strip club_." Kurapika said, sounding disgusted.

"H-hey, what's wrong with that?!" Leorio demanded, bucking up under the force of the blond's withering glare.

 _"What's wrong —"_ Kurapika began, before he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How is this plan of yours even remotely appropriate?"

"He'll be eighteen!" Leorio insisted, frowning. "I promised Gon I would do a lot of things with 'im! His first shave, his first drink...Gon's such a great kid, and he doesn't have a father, y'know? He needs a strong male influence in his life!"

"He _has_ a father," Kurapika reminded him icily.

"Yeah, but he's an _asshole_!" Leorio replied hotly. "What kinda guy has a kid and then just dumps him off on his relatives, huh?! Children are a _responsibility_! You're supposed to be there, to love an' protect 'em! _Cherish_ the little buggers!"

"You…" he began, stopped. For once, Kurapika looked like he had absolutely nothing to say to that. His expression was strange: a combination of horror, amusement, and reluctant admiration.

"Regardless," Kurapika eventually said, spitting the word out between gritted teeth, "you know how impressionable Gon is. I hardly think you should be making those types of promises."

"But I always keep my promises," Leorio said, bewildered by Kurapika's negative reaction. "'Sides, I promised Killua he could come too!"

"Killua. You're talking _Gon_ and _Killua_ to a strip club." Kurapika said, slowly enunciating each word, trying — and failing — to wrap his head around it.

"Yep. It'll be great! Oy, Kurapika, you should come too!" Leorio chuckled warmly. "Music, alcohol…" he sighed dreamily, "... _boobs…_ "

"Thanks, but no thanks," Kurapika replied, his tone so dry it could have rivaled a desert, "and if you're planning on taking Killua to a strip club, I hope you're adequately prepared to take him to an emergency room after. Just in case the embarrassment sends him into cardiac arrest."

Leorio blinked. "Ehh?"

"Nothing," Kurapika sighed. "Let's just...get down to business, shall we?"

"Alright!" Leorio slapped his hands down on the table, eager to hear what this was about. "So, what's up?"

Instead of answering, Kurapika reached down and slowly pulled a sleek black phone out of the folds of his skirt. Leorio watched, curious, as Kurapika tapped a few buttons, before passing it across the table for him to take. His expression was grave, and the lowered cast of his brown eyes made Leorio's chest tighten with sudden fear.

"Take a look," Kurapika said, his voice soft. "There's a lot to cover, so I'll try to be as concise as possible."


	2. Explanations x Decisions

Kurapika slid his phone across the table like it was an envelope full of dirty money.

 

And, against his better judgement, Leorio took it, bracing himself for the worst. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected to find, but it definitely wasn't a picture of a young man ― silver hair, ice-blue eyes, a face so smugly handsome it made Leorio want to _punch_ him.

It was, Leorio reflected sourly, oddly reminiscent of how he'd felt the first time he saw Chrollo Lucilfer, shocked to discover the Phantom Troupe's mysterious leader had looked more angel than black-hearted devil. Much like Chrollo, this man wore his good looks proudly, like a brightly colored distraction meant to draw the eye away from the darkness inside...until it was much too late, of course. The man's expression was haughty, insufferably so.

Leorio frowned, squinting at the picture hard. Was he...was he supposed to know this person? He was almost as bad as Killua when it came to names and faces, and the photograph triggered no recollection whatsoever.

"Okay..." he eventually muttered, glancing up at Kurapika, "friend of yours?"

Kurapika settled back in his chair, shaking his head minutely. His face was set in an expression of steely determination, lips pursed and brow furrowed; in the rosy light cast by the setting sun Leorio couldn't help noticing how damn _cute_ Kurapika was, but he immediately berated himself for the observation, refusing to linger on it.

 _Yes_ , Kurapika was cute. There was far too much youthful boyishness in the Kurta's face to be considered handsome, not _yet_ anyway, but the look in his eyes was anything but youthful. They were jaded, those eyes, eyes that had seen too much and expected very little.

"His name is Diaz Kozlov," Kurapika replied ― and _gods_ , Leorio had really missed hearing that accent of his. "He's my next target."

 _Target?_ Leorio glanced down at the phone, up at Kurapika, then back down and up again, in rapid succession, surprise-concern-curiosity playing across his face like a silent movie. It was enough to make Kurapika laugh, almost, because he'd honestly forgotten how expressive Leorio was.

"You're...picking up an independent bounty for the association?" Leorio eventually asked, his tone cautious. Kurapika could hear in it a second, unvoiced question: _Why_?

"Yes. It wasn't my first choice," Kurapika began, frowning down at the white tablecloth, "but time is of the essence, and circumstances being what they are...I figured this would be the most viable option. Still, it's a puzzle, one I've spent countless hours mulling over, and I've finally ―"

"Kurapika," Leorio interrupted with a sigh, "I have no idea what you're talking about. _What_ circumstances?"

"I ―" Kurapika blushed, realizing that he'd been babbling a little, several weeks' worth of pent-up frustration rising dangerously close to the surface. He swallowed thickly, forcing it back down. "I apologize...allow me to start over."

"Hey, it's okay," Leorio replied, smiling encouragingly. "Just wanna make sure I get all the facts, y'know?"

Kurapika nodded, his own lips lifting in an answering smile, all too brief. Truth be told, it had become increasingly difficult for him to tell where one thread ended and another began, everything was unraveling; what had started off as a simple assignment was now a complicated _mess_ , and Kurapika was neck-deep in it, with barely anything to show.

But…Leorio deserved an explanation. With that thought in mind, Kurapika found himself taking a deep breath, mentally gathering up all the events that had led him to this point, sitting across a dinner table from Leorio with his kind brown eyes, hoping he would help.

"I knew I'd never get anywhere, not unless I sought out the criminal element," Kurapika began, redundant information, but as good a place to start as any. "So, when we parted ways after rescuing Killua, I went looking for the Sengi Guild."

"The Sengi Guild?" Leorio repeated dubiously, scratching the side of his face. "Who are they? Some kinda mafia group or somethin'?"

"Not at all. They're actually affiliated with the H.A. _Loosely_ affiliated, but," Kurapika shrugged, smiling wanly. "The Sengi Guild is an underground agency that specializes in illicit listings."

"Huh. Sounds…" Leorio gestured weakly. "Cool, I guess…"

"You'd be surprised. Sengi calls itself a _guild_ , but in reality it's little more than a dumping ground for all the jobs the Hunter's Association is too afraid or too proud to sponsor publicly." Kurapika shrugged. "It's a win-win situation for them, really. The association gets to keep the glamorous image of the hunter's lifestyle that pulls in thousands of applicants each other, all while profiting from underground work that would otherwise make them look bad."

" _Politics_ ," Leorio muttered, and his tone was so thoroughly disgusted Kurapika had to stifle a chuckle.

"Indeed," he replied, amused. "It's all just a business in the end but...who knows, Leorio? If you work hard, perhaps you could become Chairman one day. Change some things. The responsibility would suit you, I think."

Leorio blanched, horrified. "Gods, Kurapika. Please don't say such horrible things about me..."

Kurapika actually _did_ chuckle at that, the sound exhale-soft in the night, _beautiful_ ; Leorio could see all those tiny worry-lines etched around his eyes disappear at the motion. Kurapika started to reply, but a waiter suddenly bounced up behind them ― a girl this time.

"Hello!" she chirped, her face an oni mask of politeness. "My name is Serah, and I'll be your waiter this evening! Tonight, we have a fine Pinot Chardonnay available, as well as a '98 Merlot, which was a very good year indeed. Our soup of the day is spider-eagle egg drop, with toasted sesame. So, what can I get for you gentleman?"

"Uh, yes," Leorio said, before Kurapika could chase _this_ one away, "good evenin', um ―" he scrambled for his menu, "I'll have the porterhouse steak. Medium-rare."

"Ah, excellent choice, sir! That comes with a baked potato and steamed asparagus...is that okay?"

"Yep, that's cool," Leorio replied, glancing in Kurapika's direction at the exact same time the waiter did.

"And for you, sir...?" she asked, her smile so wide and cautiously cheerful it looked plastic.

"...I'll have the grilled salmon," Kurapika replied, delicately folding his menu; he couldn't have sounded less interested in eating if he tried. "The standard side-dishes are fine."

"Another excellent choice," she sighed, obviously relieved. "I'll have that right out for you ― in the meantime, would you care for an appetizer? Something to drink?"

"Water." Kurapika answered blandly.

"Ah ―" Leorio quickly scanned the menu again. "A glass of whatever's on tap." Then he grinned, favoring her a quick wink, "Thanks, Serah."

Serah blushed, gathered up their menus, and left with a bow.

"Mmm," Kurapika hummed noncommittally into the silence; he didn't even _say_ anything, but there was something about that flat ' _Mmm'_ that immediately put Leorio on guard.

"W-what?" he demanded, squinting his eyes at the Kurta.

"Nothing," Kurapika replied, his lips quirking in a knowing gesture too small to be a smile and too genuine to be a smirk, an expression wholly unique to him; his tone suggested that it was very much _something_ , but whatever it was, he refused to say. Leorio frowned.

"No really, _what_?"

"Leorio, I _said_ it's nothing," Kurapika replied, looking faintly amused, before he became serious once more. "Let's get back to business."

"Right, right," Leorio sighed, waving for Kurapika to continue, "Sengi Guild. So, I'm guessin' that's how you started working for that blue-haired chick."

"Neon Nostrade," Kurapika supplied, "and yes. I, along with several others, was hired by her father to serve as her bodyguards for the duration of the underground auction. It was never really specified how long we'd be retained...but I got the impression that if we impressed Dalzollene, Nostrade's head of security, we'd be offered a permanent position within his network."

Kurapika glanced up, meeting Leorio's gaze. "My plan was to slowly work my way up, establishing contacts and gathering information along the way."

"So you could track down the scarlet eyes, right?" Leorio asked, all gentleness, and Kurapika nodded, his face wrenching ever-so-slightly in an expression of dark sorrow. When he spoke again, his voice was rough.

"I swore an oath," he whispered, "on their _graves_ I swore, that would take back what had been stolen from them, from _us_ , I would take _everything_ back." Kurapika's hands clenched and then opened, releasing a tension Leorio could almost feel, white-hot rage shimmering like heat coming off a blacktop. "But that was always a long-term goal, one I knew would require months of careful investigations. I accepted that..."

Kurapika paused, sucking in a bit of air, "...but what I could _not_ accept was the Phantom Troupe's continued presence. The thought of those bastards going on to commit more atrocities without consequence was _offensive_ to me. Wiping them off the face of the earth was my first order of business. I figured I could sort everything else out in due time…"

Kurapika's shoulders slumped a little, as if the weight of this had momentarily become too much for him, "...after."

Leorio swallowed, feeling helpless and useless and absolutely _despising_ himself for it, because this was exactly how he'd felt watching Pietro waste away, hoping for a miracle he knew wouldn't come, the inevitability of his friend's death slowly sinking in like poison. Without really knowing why, Leorio fumbled across the table to take Kurapika's hands, squeezing them between his own much larger ones. Kurapika inhaled sharply at the sudden contact, too startled to do much more than stare as Leorio began to babble.

"Kurapika, you, ugh, w-what I mean to say is ―"

"...Y-yes?" Kurapika asked, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant, unbalanced somehow.

"Umm..." Leorio mumbled, reddening. He wanted to tell Kurapika that he didn't have to put his whole life on hold, that it gets _better_ ― he was living proof that it always gets better. Leorio was pretty sure his clan wouldn't have wanted this life for him, but he was suddenly, _keenly_ aware of the sensitive territory he'd entered, and the words stuck in his throat like fish bones.

Kurapika's hands were warm and unexpectedly soft in his grasp ― and, Leorio realized with a start, _trembling_ a little. He gulped, slowly running his thumbs across the backs of Kurapika's hands, the skin there like _silk_ ; if anything Kurapika began to tremble a little harder, and Leorio opened his mouth, determined to speak ―

Someone cleared their throat behind them. Their waiter. "Ah, excuse me...I have your drinks ready...sorry for the delay…"

They couldn't have looked any guiltier if they tried, snatching away from each other as if they'd just been caught doing something illegal. Leorio flushed, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck, and Kurapika quickly stuck his hands under the table, his expression hardening.

Leorio managed to choke out a thank-you after their beverages had been set before them; their waiter departed on shy little mouse-steps, and even though he knew how bad it was to drink on an empty stomach, Leorio immediately reached for his beer and drained half of it in one gulp.

The atmosphere had taken on a distinctly awkward edge. When Leorio chanced a glance at Kurapika, he found him glaring down at his water like the refreshment it offered offended him.

Leorio licked his lips, his voice drifting into the silence. "...Kurapika?"

"What."

The gruff irritation in Kurapika's voice was enough to make him narrow his eyes, irked and more than a little confused. Leorio spread his hands in a _what-the-hell-did-I-do?_ kind of gesture, fixing the Kurta with a pointed look, which he didn't even bother to acknowledge. Kurapika's face was stony, _unreadable_ ; it was almost as if he'd gathered up that moment of traitorous vulnerability and squished it beneath his heel, before retreating behind some barbed emotional wall.

"Kurapika," Leorio said again, frustration creeping into his voice. "Is everything ― are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Kurapika replied, with an icy calm that was more icy than it was calm.

"Are you sure? You seem a little ―"

"Leorio." Kurapika interrupted flatly. "I'm fine. You don't have to keep asking."

Leorio knew rejection when he heard it, and Kurapika's voice was _dripping_ with it; he was refusing Leorio's comfort, refusing his compassion, refusing to hear anything he might have to say about the Phantom Troupe or his quest for revenge before Leorio could even _say_ it. Scrawled between the lines of Kurapika's 'I'm fine' was ' _don't touch me, I don't need you and I don't want anything you have to offer',_ and it _hurt_.

Leorio bit back the cuss-words that immediately sprang to mind ― he always became belligerent whenever he was angry or upset ― and directed his gaze over the balcony, furiously grinding his teeth.

"...Leorio," Kurapika said after a long moment; his tone had gentled considerably, but it didn't exactly help Leorio's mood. "I didn't - I didn't mean ― _really_ , I'm fine." There was a pause, during which Leorio could practically hear the cogs in the Kurta's head turning as he struggled to come up something else to say.

"You should…" Kurapika eventually murmured, "...save the rest of your beer for when the food arrives. The alcohol will upset your stomach if you drink too much."

Really? Kurapika's clumsy attempt to smooth things over made him smile, a little, some of his anger seeping away. Leorio eased out a breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding, willing himself to calm down, filing away the sting he felt for closer examination some other time. After all, they had bigger things to worry about.

" _The alcohol will upset your stomach_ ," Leorio parroted, his voice filled with a rough kind of teasing. "Gods, you're such a _mom_ sometimes, Pika. Tch, whatever. You still haven't explained how that Diaz guy figures into this."

Kurapika arched a brow, like he tended to do whenever Leorio shortened his name, as if he couldn't quite decide whether this affectionate version amused or annoyed him.

"...Right." Kurapika replied, quickly becoming business-like. "We received word that someone was planning to launch an attack on the underground auction hours before it was set to begin. The mafia's ruling dons were unable to confirm where this threat had come from, but I was almost positive the spiders were behind it. Even without the tip-off from Hisoka, only one group would be brazen enough to threaten such a thing, let alone make the attempt. And…"

Kurapika shook his head. "I was not wrong. The first auction ended in a bloodbath. Everything was stolen and everyone inside was killed, including three of the new bodyguards."

Leorio scowled. They'd all agreed to meet up in Yorknew City on September 1st, but Kurapika hadn't shown his face until days later; apparently, this was why. It was strange ― strange and disturbing ― to think that while he, Gon and Killua had been running an _arm wrestling_ scam to raise money, Kurapika had been dealing with heists and violent massacres. The contrast was not lost on him.

"The entire mafia community quickly organized a manhunt to bring in whomever was responsible for the attack." Kurapika continued softly. "We were ordered to give chase, and arrived on the scene just in time to watch them all get decimated. But I was ready ―" A look flashed in Kurapika's eyes, cold and implacable as the press of a blade, hissing with molten fury, "― I was _ready_ for them. The last six months of my life, I'd done nothing but prepare for this."

"So what happened?" Leorio asked, his voice low. Kurapika laughed bitterly at the question, clawing his hair back from his face with distracted, frustrated fingers.

"What _didn't_ happen?" Kurapika muttered, mostly to himself. "I managed to capture one of the spiders and bring him in for questioning, an effort that ultimately proved useless. He escaped mere hours later, killing Dalzollene in the process."

Leorio winced. "Sorry to hear that."

Kurapika waved off his condolences. "Dalzollene was a bit of an ass, but he didn't deserve to die. I'm not going to pretend his death was anything but fortuitous for me, however. The other bodyguards insisted I take his place. Unanimously." Kurapika smiled wanly. "Never let it be said I lack leadership qualities."

Leorio leaned back in his chair, shaking his head with disbelief. " _Gods_ , Pika. But what about the man from the Troupe, the one who escaped ―"

"Dead," Kurapika interrupted. He opened and closed his hands, opened and closed them. "I had him right where I wanted. He was trapped, _helpless_. But Uvogin...he refused to talk." Kurapika's voice sharpened. "I must have beaten him for _hours_. Shattered every rib in his body, and still... _still!_ He wouldn't tell me _anything!_ Who are these people? What gives them the _right?_ "

"Kurapika…"

 _I'm so sorry, Pika,_ Leorio thought, feeling that prickling wash of uselessness again, _I wish I knew._

Kurapika struggled, briefly, to regain his composure, before uttering a sigh so heavy he seemed to deflate with it.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. Kurapika picked up his glass and took a little sip of water, swallowing his anger, his disappointment.

"Anyway. After I killed Uvogin, everything pretty much went to hell in a hand basket. The Troupe proceeded to launch an all-out attack against the mafia community as revenge for his murder. Then, to throw off the assassins the dons hired to take care of them, they faked their own deaths, and used the distraction to infiltrate the rescheduled auction, passing off Nen-copied counterfeits as actual items."

Kurapika's expression shifted to reflect his disgust. "And that's barely scratching the surface of this mess, really. The long and short of it is that we were fooled, _all_ of us. I'm taking this bounty because I need the money."

Leorio was full of questions, but the next thing he knew their food was there, arriving with a flourish, and he remembered where they were.

"One porterhouse steak, medium-rare," their waiter chirped, setting a steaming plate in front of him, "and one grilled salmon. Is there anything else I can I do for you gentlemen?"

"Nothing for me," Leorio replied, shooting an inquiring glance Kurapika's way.

"We're fine. Thank you," Kurapika replied, neatly unfolding his napkin and spreading it across his lap.

Leorio had been famished before, but his appetite had diminished somewhat in the face of this new information. He waited until the waiter had departed for the second time, before firing off his first question: " _You_ need the money, or _Nostrade_ needs the money?"

Kurapika had the decency to look chastised, briefly catching his bottom lip between his teeth. "I...you're right. I was instructed to bid for a pair of Scarlet Eyes on behalf of Nostrade's daughter in the rescheduled auction. I won the bid, despite a jealous rival's attempt to sabotage my efforts. The eyes were slated to go for 350 million jenny, but cost close to 3 billion in the end."

Kurapika smiled sadly. "And they weren't even real. The eyes disappeared after twenty-four hours, along with all the other counterfeits. None of us realized, until it was far too late to do anything about it. Billions of dollars, _gone_. So in the end, the Phantom Troupe made off with mafia's merchandise _and_ their money. It was one last spit in the face, I suppose."

"Even if the eyes hadn't turned out to be fakes, _why_ would you give them away?" Leorio demanded, coming across harder than he'd intended, more judgemental. Kurapika simply stared at him, his jaw tightening.

"One hundred and twenty-eight people were massacred in my clan," Kurapika replied, in a voice so frosty it chilled the air, "Men, women, _children_. A pair of eyes for one hundred and twenty-eight people. _You_ do the damned math. Even if I had kept the eyes, what would that have accomplished? I need to get _close_ to these people, Leorio. Some things are a means to an end."

Leorio hissed, stabbing his steak with his knife, suddenly sick of all this. Gods, he just wanted to home, go to school, be _anywhere_ but here where everything was so complicated and he could barely tell one moral gray area from the next. But then Kurapika was calling his name, and it was enough to make Leorio look up, into those big brown eyes full of pleading, and something quavered in him.

"I can't quit. I can't give up now. Leorio, please try to understand," Kurapika said, and he was so determined, so fucking _fierce_ it made Leorio's heart lurch in his chest, Melody's words coming back to haunt him: _You're completely in love with him, aren't you?_

"After the auction...after he found out he'd lost almost everything," Kurapika continued quietly, "Nostrade had a complete breakdown. He can barely take care of _himself_ now, let alone look after the interests of the organization. And it's bad ― the accounts are in shambles, those who weren't killed in Yorknew are quitting left and right, and we have rivals circling like vultures over our heads looking to take what little we have left." Kurapika's eyes hardened and then narrowed, filling with distaste, "Rivals like that bald-headed _troll_ , Zenji. To make matters worse, Neon's fortune-telling ability just...doesn't work anymore. It's like someone stole that, too."

Kurapika squared his shoulders, defiant. "I promised Nostrade that I would take care of it. For better or worse, I have assumed control of his organization for the foreseeable future. I don't think I need to explain how advantageous this is for me...but nothing can happen until I staunch some of these wounds."

"Picking up a bounty would be the quickest way to get large amounts of cash flowing," Leorio sighed, beginning to get it now. "I see."

"Exactly. Eventually, I plan to move the organization in new directions," ( _What directions?_ Leorio thought, his lips pursing), "but getting out of the red is my number-one priority, for now. I've instructed Melody and Basho and keep an eye on things while I'm away, see if they can't dig up some new hires."

Leorio carefully cut off another slice of his steak ― it was delicious, but he was barely paying any attention to it ― and chewed while he mulled things over, brows knitted over his dark eyes. Finally, he said, "Okay, Kurapika. I see where you're coming from, _really_ , I do. But why are you tellin' me this?"

Leorio used his fork to gesture down at himself, spattering bits of baked potato; his suit was badly in need of ironing and his cheeks and chin had sprouted a fine stubble of brown whiskers from days of not shaving. "If you're here to ask me to join the mafia as your right-hand man so we can take over the world together ― as temptin' as that sounds ― my answer's gonna have to be a negatory."

Kurapika's lips quirked up in a smile, warm. "I would never ask you to take over the world. _Killua_ , perhaps."

Leorio slumped in relief. "Good."

"But I _am_ here to ask for your help in taking down this bounty," Kurapika added, and watched impassively as Leorio choked.

"I ― _what?_ " Leorio sputtered, half-convinced he'd misheard, a nervous sweat breaking out along his hairline.

"Diaz Kozlov is the spoiled son of a corrupt businessman who made his billions by ripping off the poor and tapping into valuable natural resources for his own gain," Kurapika replied, firm. "Over time, Kozlov Industries evolved into huge corporation, supplying energy and commodities, all while dabbling in such activities as human trafficking, extortion, murder and the manufacture and sale of controlled substances."

"Sheesh," Leorio cried, dropping his fork, "aren't those the guys that make _bungee gum?_ "

"Among other things," Kurapika's voice was dry. "Fitting, isn't it? Diaz's old man died last year ― under _very_ suspicious circumstances, I might add. It's rumored that Diaz had his father killed so that he could take control of the company, a rumor he's done nothing to deny. Regardless, Kozlov Industries' illegal activities have increased _tenfold_ since Diaz was promoted CEO. The Hunter's Association has officially declared him A-Class bounty, but no one has ever been able to get close enough to arrest him."

"If that's true, what makes you think you can bring him in?" Leorio asked, bewilderment written all over his face.

"Well," Kurapika began, with a slight tilt of his head and a wry ghost of a smile, "for starters, because I'm _me_."

Leorio rolled his eyes, _hard_. "Do you ever just trip and fall over your own ego?"

"But in all seriousness," Kurapika said, drumming his fingers on the table in an absent beat, "there's never been a better opportunity to capture him. According to the hunters' website, Diaz is planning to celebrate Kozlov Industries' fiftieth anniversary with a week's worth of showcases and self-congratulatory company parties ― _extravagant_ company parties, at that. Which means lots of alcohol, loosened inhibitions, people coming and going...and plenty of breaches in security. It shouldn't be too difficult to con my way onto the guest list. Or, if not, sneak in. And the best part is, if I fail to get close the first time, I'll have several more chances to do so."

"But won't other people have the same idea?" Leorio pointed out, fascinated by this side of Kurapika, analytical and strategic; Leorio used to think he was such a smarmy little _jackass_ , the way he would spit out facts like a living encyclopedia, so sharp he made everyone else look like idiots by default. Even though it still annoyed him, sometimes, Leorio couldn't help but be amazed by Kurapika's brilliance.

Kurapika blinked, as if surprised by the question. "Of course. Kozlov has made _hundreds_ of enemies, not just with the association. Rival corporations, various crime syndicates...and you can bet they'll be there, too."

"Okay…" One thing had been bothering Leorio, and he voiced it now, with a glower: "Why the hell would this guy throw a week-long dick-measurin' festival, huh? That's basically what this all amounts to, and it's _stupid_. He's gotta know people are gunning for 'im."

Kurapika's expression became grim. "Because he's a narcissist, an egotist, a madman. And frankly, he doesn't give a damn how many enemies he has. Look, I ―" Kurapika spread his hands in a helpless sort of gesture. "I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, Leorio. This _isn't_ going to be easy. Dias Kozlov has an entire corporation at his back, billions of jenny at his disposal and enough security personnel to field a private army. This event is going to provide the perfect opportunity ― perhaps the _only_ opportunity ― to get close to him, but make no mistake, we're walking into a lion's den. You're wondering why he's doing this? It's because he honestly believes no one would dare challenge him. I _know_ I can bring him in, but I can't…"

Kurapika lowered his voice, smiling ruefully, "...I _can't_ do this alone. This isn't the sort of job one can simply dash into, proverbial guns blazing. I need someone to watch my back, someone I can _trust_. Frankly...you're the first person I thought of."

"I…" Leorio gawked at him, flabbergasted. " _Really_?"

"Yes," Kurapika replied, decisive. "You're tough, you're street smart, you have excellent interpersonal skills and...well. Quite frankly, you're far more charismatic than I," Kurapika flushed a bit at the admission. "People _like_ you. You have an uncanny ability to put everyone around you at ease, Leorio. I have no doubt you'd be a huge asset. That is...if you agree you partner up with me on this."

Leorio tried ― he _really_ did ― to say something. His mouth opened, throat muscles working, _futilely_ ; it was as if Kurapika's praise had paralyzed him. The fact that Kurapika had been taking enough notes to come up with a list of his apparent strengths was almost too much for Leorio to handle, and yet, in a way, it wasn't surprising at all: Kurapika was extremely observant, and he'd probably done the same for Gon and Killua too, filing away his friends' strengths and weaknesses like receipts to be pulled up when he needed them.

Kurapika seemed to take his silence for a refusal, because he added, almost desperately, "The bounty on Diaz Kozlov's head is 10 billion jenny, dead or alive. After settling up Nostrade's accounts and factoring in expenses...that'll leave almost a billion jenny in take-home profit. That's five hundred million jenny apiece. More than enough to get you through med school and then some. If all goes well, we shouldn't be away more than a month, a month and a half, _tops_ ―"

"Kurapika," Leorio interrupted, his brain finally unfreezing. "Shh. _Yes_ , I'll help you. It doesn't matter if you pay me. I was going to say yes no matter what."

Kurapika exhaled shakily, relief flashing in his big brown eyes. "You...really?"

"Of course." Leorio grinned. "We're friends, right? You need help, I'm there!"

"Thank you," Kurapika whispered, and Leorio could almost see the invisible weight he'd been carrying around his neck lift, somewhat. "Seriously, Leorio. Thank you so much. But I'm still paying for you this. I can't _not_ , in good conscience."

Leorio waved him off. "Do me a favor, yea?"

Kurapika blinked. "Y-yes?"

"Eat your salmon, okay? It's not good to waste food."

Kurapika glanced, startled, down at his plate, where a perfectly grilled piece of salmon rested on a bed of rice pilaf, steamed veggies nestled beside it. He honestly couldn't remember when was the last time he'd eaten; these days, he rarely felt very hungry.

"And you think _I_ sound like a mom," Kurapika grumbled, but he picked up his fork and began to eat anyway; the fish was lukewarm now, but it was so _good_ , and Kurapika surprised himself by wolfing the whole thing down.

 

_________________________________

 

Leorio had to resist the urge to glance over his shoulder every five minutes, Kurapika's presence like an itch he couldn't quite reach, too unfamiliar for him to ignore.

The last time he'd been alone with the Kurta, _truly_ alone, was almost a year ago, on Zevil Island, and having him so close had been strange, even back then, but he'd been far too preoccupied trying to find Ponzu to let it _distract_ him the way it was distracting him now. No doubt he'd get used to it, but as they stepped out of the buzzing restaurant and back onto the wharf, plank boards creaking underfoot, a full moon hanging high overhead and the sound of the sea all around, Leorio couldn't help feeling strangely nervous ― nervous, and hyper-aware of the fact that Kurapika was strolling just a few steps behind and to the side of him.

The reality of his situation was slowly starting to sink in: he was going to be traveling with Kurapika, _working_ with him, for the next month and a half. Doubts immediately began to gnaw at Leorio's confidence. What if he screwed up? What if Kurapika got sick of him after only a few days?

 _Don't be an idiot_ , Leorio scolded himself, scowling down at the ground. This was _business_ , not pleasure; as long as he kept his wits about him, he'd be fine. Besides, Gon and Killua had been traveling almost exclusively in each other's company for the last six months, and if _they_ could do it, so could he. He was a goddamn pleasure to be around, really! He was probably just over-thinking this.

...Probably.

Leorio ran his tongue over his dry lips, feigning a confidence he didn't quite feel. " _Sooo…_ "

"... _Yeees_?" Kurapika's expression was blank, but his tone was mildly teasing, a combination Leorio honestly had no idea how he managed to pull off.

"I guess we're...y'know. Partners now, n' stuff. Whatever."

Kurapika inclined his head slightly in Leorio's direction, his eyes large and dark and fathomless in the moonlight, a curl of amusement on his lips. "What an _eloquent_ way to phrase that."

"I know, right? I surprise myself sometimes," Leorio replied smugly. "Look, I was just wonderin' if there was anything else I ought to know about...well, _anything_ , really."

"We still have quite a few more things to discuss," Kurapika replied, with a decisive nod of his head. "But I...I think I've talked enough for one evening. We can hash out the details in the morning, after we've both gotten some rest. I'm afraid we have a very long flight ahead of us."

"Flight?" Leorio repeated quizzically, his eyes widening. "Where, uh...where we goin'?"

"Keystone City, in the Republic of Kukanyu, but I'm afraid ―"

" _Keystone City?!_ " Leorio blurted, whirling on Kurapika as if he'd just announced his plan to kidnap a bus full of children and sell them for profit. Kurapika blinked, halting in his tracks, and nodded again, cautiously.

"Yes. Do you know it?"

" _Know_ it? My old hometown is just a few miles outside!" Leorio enthused, beaming. "I grew up in a little village you couldn't find on a map, and 'Stone was the closest city for miles around! Me and my brothers used to go cruising there sometimes ―"

"Really?" Kurapika said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "So...would you say you know your way around the place?"

" 'Course I know my way around the place," Leorio scoffed. He began to tick off on his fingers, happily, "All the best bars, the coolest hangouts, the liquor stores that don't check for ID, places you where can get great stuff for half the price ―"

"Excellent," Kurapika interrupted, smiling in satisfaction. "This could be _very_ useful."

They had reached the far end of the wharf now, back the way they'd come, the city languishing in full darkness, distant buildings lit up with distant lights, everything rendered mysterious and more exciting somehow under the cover of night. Leorio had always loved the nightlife himself, loved looking up and being overcome by all those bright stars against an inky black void, seemingly infinite constellations; Pietro had once tried to teach him the names and positions of some, but Leorio could never get them right. He used to sneak off to Keystone City with _him_ , too, before Pietro fell ill, precious moments of teenage rebellion and adventure that he would always remember. The thought of going back to Keystone made something twist in his chest, a needle-sharp stab of feeling, and Leorio realized a moment later that it was the anticipation one feels after being too long from home.

Kurapika walked a bit farther, then paused for a moment under a streetlamp, gazing up at him in a way that made Leorio want to blush for some reason, warmth creeping up from his collar.

"Where are you staying tonight?"

"O-oh, well, uh…" Leorio sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "I hadn't quite...figured that out, yet…"

"Leorio." Kurapika said, his voice filled with faint reproof. "Why didn't you find accommodations earlier? You'll never find anything decent at this hour!"

Leorio shrugged, a wry half-smile on his face. "I got side-tracked! 'Sides, it doesn't have to be _decent_ , it just has to have a bed. Don't worry about me, Pika. I'mma go grab my stuff from the lockup downtown and look for a motel."

Kurapika frowned, his expression settling into stubborn lines. "No. I'm staying at the Six Seasons by the park ― let's go get your things, and we'll share my room. There's a spare bed."

Leorio grinned, happiness briefly sweeping him up, before he damped it back down. _Play it cool, Leorio. Just. Play it cool, man._

"Sounds good me," he said, and then they walked off together, the city eventually swallowing them up, into whatever would come next.


End file.
